


The Royal Collection

by Angelise (angelise7)



Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Do you get it? Teenagers!!, Early Work, M/M, Original Character(s), Series Based, teenage romance, teenagers in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:12:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2550458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelise7/pseuds/Angelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The initial meeting between King Louis and Phillipe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> During the original posting of my AU Sentinel fandom series, Love's Musketeer, back in the early 2000s, the relationship between King Louis and his consort, Phillipe, garnered quite a fan following. I wrote several snippets for those enthusiastic fans. The first chapter was to have been the beginning of a new series featuring primarily Louis and Phillipe with occasional appearances of the Musketeers. It never saw the light of day.

"ENOUGH!!" 

King Louis threw the finance documents at the nearest courier before bolting from the throne room. Papers were scattered all over the marble floor by his hasty escape, and the cabinet members closest to the throne watched in amazement, their bewildered voices shattering the silence and echoing after their fleeing royal. 

Gerard Departe', the king's counselor followed Louis at a slower pace, his arthritic knees refusing to keep up with the frantic pace of his young charge. It did not bother him when he lost sight of the king for he knew without a doubt he would find Louis seeking refuge in the small private chapel on the palace grounds. 

Quiet sobs greeted his arrival, and he hesitated slightly, taking his time entering the chapel and finding a seat close to the doorway. Gerard knew Louis would not appreciate any witnesses to his tears, not even a trusted friend and counselor. 

Minutes passed before a shadow moved across the far mural, sliding silently towards the exit. Gerard caught the fluttering movement of one of the gold brocade curtains that lined the wall and called softly, “Louis?" 

A deep painful sigh descended into the silence and the breath upon which it was carried ended abruptly in a strangled sob. Several more minutes ticked by before a disheartened and frightened voice whispered hoarsely. 

"I'm losing my mind, old man. I can't do this anymore." 

Louis moved out of the darkness and the summer’s afternoon sunlight illuminated his strained features. Exhausted by an endless number of sleepless nights, the king stumbled on his way to Gerard, only managing to stay upright by securing a hold on a nearby curtain. “The voices are getting louder and the dreams . . . ." Words failed Louis and he grew silent, the look on his face giving voice to his inability in expressing his emotions. 

Gerard watched the young man rub his temples, the king’s deep green eyes closing in anguish. 

"The pain overwhelms me, dear friend. Everyday it gets worse and worse." Louis moved to stand before his counselor, reaching forward to grip his hand. “The dreams haunt me every night and I’m beginning to fear for my sanity. Help me, Gerard. Please." 

The older man leaned forward and caught his king in a concerned embrace. He stroked the long strands of ebony hair, offering a small measure of comfort to the suffering teenager. "Do not worry, my child. I will take care of everything." 

 

+++++++

 

Athos strode down the hallway, calling ahead to his friend. "Porthos!" 

The black Musketeer stopped and waited for his captain to catch up with him. While waiting, he checked his pocket to make sure Aramis had not stolen his pipe. Lately his lover had taken to hiding his pipe and tobacco simply because he did not approve of the smell that lingered upon his clothes. If he wasn’t careful, Aramis would soon have him dressing and smelling as elegantly as the young priest himself. “Good thing I love him,” he muttered under his breath. 

Looking up, he greeted his captain. "Good morning to you, my dear Athos. What duty does the King assign to his Musketeers this glorious day?" 

The two men walked into the royal breakfast room, Athos following his comrade to the serving table. "The king wishes to be alone, Porthos, and that is why he has taken up residence here at his country estate. It is our duty to make sure he remains safe during his time of solitude." 

Athos went to the window and looked out at the lush gardens that surrounded the small castle. He easily located the lone figure that restlessly prowled the grounds. Tapping the glass with his fingers, he whispered, "May you find the peace you seek, my king." 

 

+++++++

 

Louis fled the sunshine and sought the darkness of the forest, the cool shadows slightly easing the unrelenting pain in his head. Sinking to the ground, he wrapped his arms around his bent knees and rocked back and forth, mutely begging the angels to release him from his suffering. Tears rolled down the youth’s pale cheeks as he finally gave into the overwhelming agony. Laying his head on his knees, he hid behind the curtain of his long hair, closing his eyes and moaning, the sound low and tortured. Soon he began to speak, the words tangling with his cries. 

"The dreams, the dreams. I don't want them anymore. They torture my heart." Louis dug his nails into the flesh of his upper arms, uncaring that the tight grip of his fingers broke the skin and brought blood to the surface. "Why? Why? Why do you show me a love I can never have? What injustice have I committed to warrant this heartache?" 

The teenager fell on his side, curling his body into a tight ball. A sad keening sound slipped from his throat as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the darkness that tormented his mind. 

The forest acknowledged the youth's presence, its trees and underbrush seeming to offer their shadowy mantle, concealing the king from prying eyes. Summer breezes ceased their playful chase among the leaves, allowing a comforting silence to fall over the weeping royal. Louis was beyond recognizing his surroundings -- his mind lost to the ghostly images that plagued him, his eyes open but unseeing, his sight seized by the face of his nightmares. 

A gentle warmth embraced the traumatized youth as small hands stroked the length of the king's raven locks, curious fingers weaving the silken strands together. Caring touches guided Louis into arms that soothed and comforted, the quiet crooning of a raspy voice whispering to the slender teenager and calming his cries. 

Louis’ features were tenderly traced, the light touch easing the deep groves of pain and anguish that lined the king’s mouth. Again, the hands worked their magic, moving slowly down Louis’ body, halting when they reached his heart, their sheltering contact bestowing a peaceful rest. Within minutes, the longhaired monarch fell into a dreamless sleep, his sigh of serenity witness to his deliverance. 

Tender kisses were pressed ever so lightly to the king's lips just before the consoling warmth faded back into the dark shadows of the forest. 

 

++++++++

 

Louis stood at the window staring down at the forest. It had been several days since his emotional collapse. He had stirred to wakefulness as the night's darkness began to cloak the sky and his mind and heart had rejoiced in the fleeting peace mysteriously bestowed upon him. 

The tall teenager worried the flesh of his bottom lip as his mind struggled to recall the reason for his tranquility. He had awakened with the memories of a presence, a human presence. His body had been consoled with warm, gentle touches, and even now Louis could still feel the kiss that had lingered on his lips when he had fallen asleep. 

Turning away from the window, Louis looked at the large empty bed that awaited him. The restlessness was stirring again, clawing at his mind, a painful reminder of the unresolved nightmares. He looked out at the darkness one last time, a wistful plea in his emerald eyes. Sliding between the covers, he begged his guardian angel for sleep, for a simple, undisturbed night of rest. 

"Please. No dreams tonight. Grant me one more night of peace." 

Clutching a pillow tight to his chest, the king closed his eyes and slept. 

 

+++++++

 

The king’s despairing wail marred the silence as he thrashed wildly in the bed, flinging the damp covers off his sweat-soaked body. His nakedness was caught by the moonlight streaming through the open window, his waist length ebony hair tangled around his body, appearing as living ropes holding him hostage. 

“No! No!” Louis clawed at the silk sheets, attempting to rip himself free of the dream that had possession of his mind. His sobs grew louder and louder as he twisted back and forth seeking refuge from the torment. 

His salvation came in the returning presence of the comforting warmth from earlier before. Slender arms and legs wrapped tenderly around him, gentle hands finding and gripping his own, bringing them to lips that treasured them with gossamer soft kisses. Louis sighed as his naked flesh slid against rough cotton, his body instinctively seeking the embrace of solace. 

Louis hid his face against the thin frame of his unknown savior, his thick eyelashes unable to contain his tears as his lips whispered his heart's pleas to a thin bony shoulder, the words he finally spoke disjointed with need. 

“I need . . . Please don’t leave. Please . . .”

A kiss caressed his pale cheeks before settling upon his mouth, sharing its healing warmth. Louis opened his eyes briefly, beholding the heavenly spirit of mercy holding him. A tumbled confusion of sorrel curls nearly obscured the deep brown eyes of his young angel and with sleep pulling him down into the darkness of peace, the king struggled to comprehend the identity of his savior. 

His dreams. 

The redeemer of his sanity was the lover that haunted him in his dreams.

 

+++++++

 

Louis waded into the shallows of the stream, enjoying the simple pleasure of being barefoot in the cool water. He looked back and smiled at the resting form of his aged counselor. "Come join me, Gerard. I promise not to let the fishes eat you." 

The older man chuckled, rejoicing in his sovereign's lighthearted play. He was not quite sure what had removed the pain from those laughing green eyes but he was extremely thankful and offered up a silent prayer of gratitude. 

"Come, child. You have terrified the residents of that stream long enough. It is time for your lesson with Athos." 

The elderly counselor guided Louis across the grounds and back toward the castle. "Athos tells me your swordsmanship has improved immensely. He is amazed at your . . ." 

Gerard soon realized he was speaking to himself, the king no longer at his side. Turning on his heel, he walked back to where his monarch was standing motionless, Louis' unblinking gaze focused on a slender youth feeding the king's herd of deer. Gerard watched in confusion as Louis unconsciously pressed his hand over his heart, his eyes darkening with an undefined emotion as he watched the lad's every move. 

Louis reached out and gripped the older man's hand, clutching at him desperately. "Gerard. It's him. It’s him. The one in my dreams. The one who has come to me twice and saved me from the madness." 

Louis released his counselor's hand and took a step forward. "This boy . . . this boy calls to my heart, Gerard, and somehow my soul finds peace in his arms." Glancing over his shoulder, Louis searched for wisdom and guidance in the gaze of his beloved adviser. "Who is this boy? This lover from my dreams?" 

A deep, husky voice startled them, and they both turned to find Athos standing behind them, his dark countenance gentled by the sight of the young boy. 

"He is my son, your highness and his name is Phillipe." 

 

The end


	2. Waiting for Noel

King Louis watched as his giggling consort rose from his bubble filled bathing basin. He took the fleece-lined robe from his steward’s hand and wrapped it around Phillipe’s slippery frame, lifting the youth out of the water. "You imp," he whispered into the damp softness of his lover’s mahogany curls.

Phillipe pulled Louis’ head down and nibbled on the King’s lower lip. A gasp of pleasure from the tall monarch allowed him to slip his tongue inside for a playful foray. A minute later, Phillipe squirmed not only out of his robe but also out of his lover’s arms and ran naked toward the ornate fireplace. He straightened the two pair of shoes sitting in front of the hearth. Looking over his shoulder, he drew the King’s attention to the elegant slippers.

"They remain empty. Why? Is he not coming, Louis? I have been very good this year. My slipper should be filled with presents."

Louis laughed and joined his young lover. Smoothing one hand over the tempting curve of Phillipe’s ass, he pointed toward their bed. "Yes, you have been good, young one. Very good, indeed. But… your present will appear only after you are asleep."

Phillipe pouted naughtily before scrambling to his feet and hurling himself onto the feather filled mattress. Rolling over on his tummy, he wiggled his bottom and laughed, teasing his royal lover with his naked slenderness.

Louis needed no further coaxing. He dismissed the servants and quickly made his way over to the bed. Slipping off his robe, the teenage monarch gazed upon the graceful beauty of his consort. Imagining the tight sheath that would soon surround his proud erection, Louis reached out a hand and traced a finger along the cleft that separated the twin globes of Phillipe’s ass. A slickness welcomed his wandering digit and the King smiled with delight at his lover’s enthusiastic foresight.

Climbing on the bed, he straddled his consort’s lower torso and rested the head of his cock against the entrance to Phillipe’s body. Pausing a second to lean down, he slowly licked along the youth’s spine. Reaching the sensitive skin of Phillipe’s nape, he opened his mouth and tickled the pale flesh with his tongue.

A subtle thrust against his erection reminded Louis of a more urgent need and he carefully pressed inside his consort’s smaller body, quickly establishing a gentle rhythm of loving. Phillipe’s fingers grabbed one of his hands and brought it to his trembling shaft. The unspoken request was quickly answered by Louis, his hand lazily stroking his lover’s erection and down covered sac. Youthful internal muscles clamped down on his own erection and the King lost control. His fingers tightened around Phillip’s cock as he drove deeper and faster into his consort’s body. Several seconds later the feel of his lover’s slender organ spilling its seed into his hands pushed Louis over the edge and he surrendered his release.

Rolling over on his back, the King blanketed himself with Phillipe’s boneless sprawling body. He kissed the youth’s satiated smile and whispered.

"You are my heart, little one."

The end


	3. Love Cleanses All

The King burst into the room, pure undiluted anger pouring off his body, his long hair whipping wildly around him. He ripped off his crown and hurled it into the waiting hands of his young valet. The manservant rushed forward, helplessly trying to catch the garments his majesty flung at him. 

Silken cloth ripped, gemstones tumbled to the floor as Louis tore his clothes from his body in an attempt to rid himself of the intense emotions strangling his mind. 

“The Cardinal be damned! He will hang from the gallows for this attack on my guard.” Long elegant fingers jerked roughly on black strands of hair, raking back the untamed mane. “I should have known his request for the use of my Musketeers was suspiciously evil. Sacre bleau! How could I have been so stupid.” 

Taking several deep calming breaths, the King divested himself of his jeweled adornments. Glancing at the bed and noting its emptiness, he turned towards his valet. 

“Where is he?” 

“The bathing chamber, Sire.” 

Emerald eyes smoldered with desire, their gaze moving to the closed door of the adjoining room. A look of sensual pleasure grazed the King's lean dark features. 

“Leave me. I will call if I need you.” 

The young man gathered his majesty’s garments, bowed low and left. 

Louis smiled, one hand skimming restlessly over his naked chest and down to his awakening erection. A low lusty laugh slid into a slow groan of unquenchable need. He swiftly removed his remaining garments and quietly slipped into the room where his consort was. 

A tortured gasp fractured the silence of the bathing chamber. Scented steam arose from the marble basin, filling the room with the subtle aroma of honeysuckle. Slender, coltish arms were stretched lazily along the sides, fingers trailing idly in the warm water. Iridescent bubbles teased the upper torso of his dozing lover, floating delicate kisses over the rosy peaks of his nipples. Drifting islands of foam teased the King's vision with glimpses of drowsy vulnerable flesh. 

As he moved to kneel beside the large basin, Louis smiled at the wanton image of his young consort. The beauty of the innocent sprawl, the wet naked limbs, the full luscious lips--the image of pure sensuality taunted the young Royal. A single finger pursued the path of a droplet as it slipped off a slim shoulder. A hungry tongue snared the errant bead of water before moving on to lick a path of liquid heat over the solidity of a bicep. Teeth nibbled on the tender flesh of an inner arm before whispered kisses soothed the troubled area. 

Louis moved even closer, his gaze centering on the satin tresses of sorrel, curled by the steam. The King stood and rubbed his hungry manhood in the luxurious softness of his consort's short locks. 

Husky moans drifted into the steam as satin caressed steel. Louis relinquished the tight rein on his emotions and gave himself up to the erotic embrace of his lover’s hair on the sensitive skin of his cock. Thick liquid pearls escaped into the dark strands, conditioning the lustrous spirals with the cream of hot passion. 

Louis’ eyes snapped open as hands tangled with his, removing them from his erection. He looked down and beheld a vision of pagan desire rising from the water. Droplets of water trickled down Phillipe's pale flesh, trailing over firm, youthful muscles and losing their way in the black bramble of curls that sheltered his slender cock. The slow teasing movement of one single bubble captured Louis' gaze as it caught and trembled precariously on one of his consort's nipples. He leaned down and cautiously exhaled a breath of warm air. The fragile sphere burst, releasing its moisture unto the small nub. The King allowed his hands to splay out over the smooth wet chest of his small consort, his fingers insistent in their quest of torment, pulling, pinching the tight rosy peaks of flesh. 

Louis gently placed a kiss on the soft lips of his young lover, the richness of breathless moans caressing the humid silence. Releasing himself from the tender grip of Phillipe's hands, he climbed into the basin and lowered himself into the warm depths. He reached over the side and picked up a golden urn, adding more hot water. Sprawling against the curved back of the marble tub, he beckoned to his lover, his eyes dark and sensual. 

“Come to me, my beautiful angel. Come and let me taste your sweetness.” 

The youth reached across the King and retrieved a container of fragrant ointment from the gilded stand that stood nearby. He coated his fingers with liberal amounts of the thick salve. Rising to his knees, he leaned forward and offered his hardened nipples to his beloved sovereign. As hungry lips nursed on his body, the lad reached behind himself and teased his hidden bud with his lotion-covered fingers. 

Hoarse cries echoed throughout the chamber as the two of them surrendered to the raging needs of their desires. Topaz eyes melded with deep emerald as bodies crashed against each other and fought to unite physically. Hands and fingers discovered and explored hidden places of aching need. Flesh yielded to an earthly embrace, exacting heat sinking deep. Hearts hastened in their rhythm as blood surged, seeking an escape for the blazing inferno of unfulfilled need. Intoxicating waves of pleasure battled with the convulsive need for control. Small sharp teeth sought the communion of flesh and blood as they bit down hard on the bronzed skin of his lover's neck. 

Passion, desire and love spiraled out, binding the two young lovers as they abdicated their hold on reality. Shuddering pulses of release signaled their fall, the rush to the edge of awareness, the sweet insanity of exquisite pleasure. Arms and legs tangled together as lips sought and savored the last moments of their orgasmic union. Arousal's hunger was satisfied, the lazy command of satiation guiding hands and fingers in slow gliding strokes over sensitive softening flesh. 

Sliding down into the water, Louis gathered his exhausted and trembling consort close, whispering tiny kisses across Phillipe’s radiant face. Lifting the boy’s left hand to his mouth, he worshipped, with his lips, the simple band of gold that graced his lover’s left ring finger. 

“My heavenly angel. You have captured my heart for all eternity. I am but a humble servant to your love.” 

Phillipe's gentle smile and tender embrace acknowledged his King's words, his thin fingers touching Louis' swollen lips as they whispered his name. Nodding his head, the young man uttered a simple word. 

“Love.” 

The end


	4. Trembling on the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillipe's POV during a loving encounter.

Wanton moans of whispered desire drifted into the shadows, dissolving into silence with each kiss. Breathless mouths mated again and again, offering up sighs that escalated into shameless pleading. 

Trembling fingers slid over damp skin, abandoning their ability to communicate. A voice of husky hoarseness breached the silence, a rarity of words begging for release. 

Phillipe ripped the silk linens away from the bed, his fingernails tearing the fragile fabric. A curtain of raven hair sheltered his slender body as a pair of loving lips explored the curve of his buttocks. A breath of warm air teased his hidden entrance causing the youth to petition his King for a more intimate caress. 

Phillipe shuddered, a hungry growl trapped in his throat. His lover balanced him on the brink of his orgasm, a tenuous hold that tormented his senses. A subtle taste and the young consort volunteered to abandon all control, ready to give himself completely to his lover. 

The King's mouth on his body was pushing him into a passion-induced rapture. Every inch of his flesh cried out to be soothed by Louis' love. Phillipe struggled to escape the tangled linens that encased his legs, giving him the freedom to move closer to Louis. His sovereign's hands gently released him before skimming over the trembling musculature of his slender limbs. 

A liquid warmth trickled down his spine, pooling briefly in the hollow of his back before seeping into the crevice between his buttocks. Phillipe moaned and sank into the softness of the bed, giving himself up to the decadence of desire the King was subjecting him to. His legs spread further apart, giving permission to the gentle fingers invading his body. 

The rapid beat of blood pounded in his head and in his groin. His skin was on fire, a searing heat that increased with each deliberate foray of Louis' lips. His breath caught on the edge of his orgasm, a guiding hand rendering a fragile hold on his control. His member was gripped tightly, bridling his precipitous release. 

An edge of pain and need incited Phillipe to utter words that were lost in the silence that surrounded him. He beseeched his beloved King to claim him, to sheath his cock deep inside him. 

A trembling erection was pressed against his buttocks, scarcely breaching the guardian entrance. The young consort sobbed, his need bordering on desperation. He slammed his fist against the ornate headboard, a craving for completion clutching at his soul. 

Turning his head slightly, he kissed Louis, his mouth almost brutal as his swallowed his lover's tongue, tasting dark passions. Urgency demanded a frantic mating, his body struggling against the constraint placed upon it. Impassioned words escaped him, imploring his King to finish the act that was driving him to madness. 

"Take me. TAKE ME NOW." 

Phillipe moaned, a sound dragged from the depths of his slender body. A solid heat filled him, igniting the fire that threatened his grip on reality. A thrust of his hips and his lover was seated deep within him. Any semblance of rhythm was abandoned as the youth writhed and bucked against Louis' hold. 

A cry was muffled against his shoulder as teeth bit into his flesh. Phillipe abandoned all restraint as Louis' hand contracted around his shaft and pulled forth wave after wave of his steaming seed. A flicker of movement in the distance was unheeded as a shattering of thoughts commenced. 

Gentle arms caught and turned his collapsing form as it fell to the bed. Phillipe smiled lazily as the damp strands of his chestnut curls were brushed away and affectionate kisses played across his face. His drowsy sigh welcomed the King's lips as a final taste of his spent release was searched for. 

Words were whispered against his ear but his sleep-laden mind did not comprehend their meaning. His lover's warmth slowly deserted him and Phillipe took shelter under the layers of blankets, drifting into slumber, never seeing his royal lover leave their chambers. 

the end


	5. A Royal Scamp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When in residence at the palace in Versailles, the King’s public bedchamber was the very heart of the French court. Louis publicly rose and retired here, met with nobles and commoners alike, from the comfort of the large ornate bed that was situated in the very center of the room.
> 
> I visited Versailles several years ago and I cannot even begin to describe how magnificent this room--this palace is. It absolutely defies description. If you ever have the opportunity to visit Paris, make sure you go to Versailles. You will never forget the awesome splendor of the palace and its surrounding grounds.
> 
> If you visit this link, you will find a slideshow of the Palace. Look for the King's Chamber. This is the room featured in this story.
> 
> [Versailles](http://en.chateauversailles.fr/homepage)

The Consort sat behind the King, watching his Majesty conduct the kingdom's daily affairs. He rearranged the numerous pillows on the bed and settled into a comfortable position, his long coltish legs wrapping around the lower portion of the King's body.

A simple tap to his knee was a signal from Louis to behave. Phillipe smiled and hid his face in the velvety softness of his lover's hair. Brushing aside the ebony strands, he tickled the back of Louis' neck with his tongue. His teasing nibbles resulted in a firmer tap on his knee.

Determined to behave most wickedly, the young Consort slipped his hand beneath the King's robes. Cautiously, he danced his fingers around his lover's narrow waist, allowing them to rest against Louis' flat abdomen and absorb his body's heat.

Nestling his face in the thick tresses that fell between the King's shoulders, Phillipe waited, waited for the right moment. Touching his lips to the side of Louis’ throat, he listened as his lover admonished the Cardinal. After several minutes, Phillipe pressed his cheek firmly against the man's slender back and detected the vibrations of an agitated heart.

Peeking over the King's shoulder, he caught the Cardinal's eye and . . . winked! Quickly, he ducked back down, hiding behind the larger form of his Majesty. Phillipe chuckled. He may be only a teenaged boy but that didn’t mean he wasn’t old enough to recognize the lust in the holy man’s gaze.

"Holy my ass," the youth mouthed. The Cardinal's carnal ego needed a little deflating and Phillipe was quite ready to volunteer for the task. He just prayed that Louis wouldn't kill him for this act of disobedience.

Sneaking another glance, he noted the older man was on his knees, paying respect to his King. Phillipe's hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. Now was the time to make his move. The bedchamber was empty of all nobles, only the Cardinal remaining.

Phillipe licked a wet path across the side of Louis' neck and then blew a stream of warm air over the moisture. Mere seconds later, his mouth latched onto the flesh, sucking hard. The young King leaned his head back, giving Phillipe better access.

The mischievous Consort used his talented mouth to distract the King from his true target. Hearing the hitched intake of breath that accompanied his lover’s capitulation, he slid his hands down over his lover's abdomen, tangling his fingers in the coarse curls that surrounded his subject of torture. Phillipe nipped Louis’ neck before gripping the Royal’s swiftly awakening erection.

His slender fingers glided over the satiny hardness, blindly tracing each drop of moisture that escaped. One errant bead hastened toward the heavy velvet sac below and Phillipe followed it with his hand, testing the weight and the feel of the encased ovals.

Another smile ghosted across Phillipe's features as he detected the minute spreading of Louis' legs. He continued to feed on the pale flesh of his lover's shoulder and neck as his hand explored further, stroking across the softness of Louis' perineum. With some extra effort, the tip of his index finger was able to tease the hidden portal of his lover's behind.

Phillipe spent precious seconds pleasuring his King before lifting his head to stare at the Cardinal, daring the old man with his taunting gaze. Phillipe knew that every move of his hand caused the King's robe to flutter, parting and closing swiftly, tempting the Cardinal with tiny glimpses of the majestic steel shaft. He also knew from Louis' response that his King had joined in on the game and was willing to push the older man to the edge.

Phillipe brazenly pulled open the upper portion of his lover's robe, exposing his chest. He captured a dark rosy nipple with his fingers and tortured the small nub into a pointy hardness. He pulled and tugged on the wrinkled peak, a task that elicited rumbling groans from the King, the deep vibrations teasing the Consort’s sensitive fingertips. Phillip resumed his task beneath the silken cover of his King's robes and slid his finger into the leaking slit of Louis' cock and then lifted it to his lover's mouth, allowing him to taste his own seed.

A sudden movement distracted Phillipe. He turned his attention to the Cardinal and his eyes widened with delight as he observed the man's discomfort. The evidence of the holy man's suffering was a widening stain on the front of his red robes. A nudge on Louis' neck directed the King's attention to the man still kneeling on the floor.

Louis turned his head, his mouth stealing a hungry wet kiss. "Finish it, my love," he whispered.

Phillipe needed no further encouragement. His hand embraced his lover's cock and began a familiar rhythm of stroking. Gracefully, his fingers orchestrated a dance over the straining shaft. The tempo began slow and sensual then increased to a rapid friction of heat, an exquisite attack of varying cadences. Hot and damp flesh pulsed and throbbed, releasing molten streams of liquid silk.

Phillipe caught his King as the young royal collapsed in his arms, gasping for breath, his eyes closed momentarily as if he was gathering his strength and his sanity. The young consort eased his lover down onto the bed, covering him with a plush comforter. He then climbed off the bed and moved to stand before the paralyzed Cardinal. He stood there, naked, his erection proud, the candlelight from the multiple crystal chandeliers caressing his slender body.

Phillipe's husky voice echoed throughout the stately chamber. "Remember what you have seen today, Cardinal. And know that you will never taste of such a love."

The youth turned his back on the older man and joined his drowsy lover on the bed. He spared a last glance at the motionless Cardinal and announced. "You are dismissed."

The bedroom doors opened and closed as the royal guard escorted the Cardinal out. Phillipe smiled and snuggled into the King's embrace. Louis’ long elegant fingers traced over his bottom before soundly smacking the firm flesh.

"You are an evil scamp."

Phillipe swallowed Louis' smile, his mouth feasting hungrily on the warmth of his lover's kiss. "But I am your scamp, your Majesty. Yours to love forever."

Louis picked Phillipe up in his arm and slid from the bed, making his way toward their private apartment. He touched his nose to that of his consort’s. "Thank God for wicked scamps."

The end

**Author's Note:**

> In my series, Love's Musketeer, an AU Sentinel creation, my cast of characters is as follows: Athos-Jim, D'Artagnan-Blair, Porthos-Simon, Aramis-Rafe, King Louis-OC, Phillipe, King's consort-OC, Cardinal Richelieu-Garett Kincaid
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [You can find me on Tumblr!](http://angelise7.tumblr.com/)


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